“The ball’s going to be fantastic,” he enthused. “It’ll be the best Valentine’s ball anybody ever put on anywhere.”

“I hate it when people humor me.”

“Then why are you still smiling?”

“Because sometimes you can be very sweet.”

“Hold that thought,” he teased, and he brought her hand to his lips.

“I’m not going to sleep with you.” She retrieved her hand, but the smile grew wider. “But, maybe, if you’re very, very good, I might dance with you at the Valentine’s ball.”

“And maybe if you’re very, very good, I might bring you flowers and candy.”

“Something to look forward to.”

“Isn’t it?”

They both stopped talking, and a soft silence settled around the hum of the engines as they taxied toward the runway.

“It’s just that we’ve worked day and night on this product launch,” she said, half to herself.

“I can imagine,” he responded with a nod.

“All of us,” she added. “The Luscious Lavender products are strong. The sales force is ready. And marketing showed me a fantastic television commercial last week. I really want to make sure I do my part.”

“You are doing your part.” He had no doubt of that. “There’s still the ball.”

She gave a shrug and tucked her hair behind her ears. “The ball’s pretty much ready to go. I know it’ll be fine. But I wanted that something extra, that something special from the PR department.” Then she sighed. “Maybe it’s just ego.”

“Contributing to the team is not ego. Taking all the glory is ego.”

“Wanting recognition is a form of ego,” she countered.

“Wanting recognition for a job well done is human.”

Her voice went soft. “Then I guess I don’t want to be human.”

He watched her for a silent minute, trying to gauge how deep that admission went. For all her bravado, he sensed an underlying insecurity. What Sinclair presented and who she really was were two different things. She was far more sensitive than she showed.